Happiness
by Nico-Chan
Summary: November 29th, 1997. Sometimes, memories are all that remain of a time we were happy. Sometimes, memories of those happy times are often very sad. December 17th, 2005. / ChrisWesker


Warnings: Nothing anyone over 15 should worry about. This is probably the first fic I've written exploring the relationship between Chris and Wesker prior to the Mansion Incident. I really wanted to capture the type of relationship they had before they became all "GARRR!" in the games. This is a giftfic written for Jayden over at livejournal.

_** Happiness**_

_ December 17th, 2005_

Chris Redfield was often far too busy with his duties as a top member in the B.S.A.A., and tirelessly waging a crusade against bio-terrorism alongside his partner, Jill Valentine, to take the time to visit his younger sister. That's why it was such a big event when Claire managed to convince him to take a few days off from his work, and visit her in a small town in the Midwestern United States.

It had almost been two years since the Redfield siblings had seen one another. They had celebrated the fall of Umbrella- even Leon managed to stop by for a few hours before being whisked away to participate in some type of top secret mission for the government. However, even with Umbrella at an end, it seemed that Chris couldn't take a break for long. He returned to the B.S.A.A. and began traveling around Europe- dedicating his life to stopping all forms of biological terrorism.

Claire kept herself busy as well by working for Terrasave, and doing all that was in her power to further their shared cause. So the months quickly went by with the only communication between the two being a few messages exchanged over e-mail, with the occasional surprise call here and there. Claire eventually decided to take some time off after the Harvardville Incident, and it was from there that she convinced Chris, and his partner, to enjoy Christmas with her in the unassuming town of Quiet Peak.

It was from that invitation that Chris found himself sitting in a small booth at a local café, Jill to his right, and Claire across the table, with a dully familiar waitress looking down at him. Her platinum blonde hair was held up in a tight bun with her long, beak-like, nose holding up a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. A few uncomfortable moments passed with the waitress staring intently at him before she drew her head back, and snapped her fingers in surprise.

"It's you! Mr. S.T.A.R.S!" She said, and then laughed nasally. Claire and Jill exchanged confused looks, while Chris' face held no sense of recognition as he looked at the waitress with obvious confusion.

"I'm sorry…I don't think…" He began, before the waitress cut him off with a peculiar smile.

"No no, it's okay. I don't expect you would remember me. You were in S.T.A.R.S, right? In Raccoon City?" She held her serving tray tightly under her arm, and smiled knowingly. As Chris began to answer in the affirmative she cut him off, seemingly already knowing his answer.

"I was a waitress at Paul's Bar and Grill." She explained.

A moment passed before the recognition set in, and Chris nodded his head.

"Yeah, I remember Paul's. Did you serve me?" He questioned, and the waitress nodded enthusiastically.

"Only all the time! I'm a little surprised you don't remember me…but I guess it's understandable. Probably thought I became one of those _things_, or got blown sky high by the bombs or something, am I right?" She laughed again, her chipper mood belying what could only be troubling memories.

"So you're a Raccoon City survivor?" Jill asked, leaning forward on the table to see the waitress from around Chris. The waitress laughed again, which caused Claire to visibly wince at the high pitched whining sound that emitted from her nose.

"Sure am, honey! I served Mr. S.T.A.R.S, and his friend, almost every Sunday night for about six, or seven, months."

"Wow…you have a really good memory." Claire marveled. The woman nodded her head, as if accepting her own greatness as fact.

"I do, honey. I do. I've been a professional waitress since before the time 'server' became the _politically correct_ term to use. I've served thousands of men, women, and children and never forget a face. I've got a gift. What can I say?" And as she spoke she laughed again, pushing her glasses up her sharp nose.

Claire's amused expression was conflicting with Jill's expression of disbelief, but the waitress took no notice, and instead focused entirely on Chris. He frowned a little under the scrutiny of her beady eyes, and ran his hand along the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"Yeah, sorry. I remember you now." He apologized.

"Oh, no worries, Mr. S.T.A.R.S! No harm done." She gave him a large smile and pulled out her notepad, all the while keeping her serving tray tucked neatly under her arm.

"Whatever happened to your friend?" She asked curiously, her beady eyes staring down at Chris once again. "You two always seemed so cozy together!"

"He…" Chris began, suddenly feeling three pairs of eyes on him. "He…died." He answered lamely, scowling deeply. He didn't even need to turn his head to see Jill's questioning gaze, or Claire's look of concern. "Can I get a coffee?" He asked, quickly trying to change the subject.

"Sure thing, Mr. S.T.A.R.S. Sorry to hear about your friend, he was a real cutie." The waitress said, her apology almost as an afterthought. "And you want something to eat?" The three ordered their meals and the waitress took up their menus and winked at them, introduced herself as Karen, and sauntered over to her next table.

The three set in silence for a moment before Claire spoke, her voice gentle.

"Chris…"

"Don't worry about it." Chris said dismissively. "It was a long time ago." He looked down at the table, avoiding their prying gazes. Jill gently placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Was it Raccoon?" She asked and he nodded, then slowly looked over at her. She knew that look well. It was the look that meant he didn't want to talk about it. Chris was never very good at hiding his emotions, and Jill was especially attuned to picking up on his bad moods just from a simple look. If he wanted to talk about it, he would talk about it when he was ready, but not before. He had always been like that.

Jill retracted her hand from his shoulder and turned her head to face Claire, who still seemed concerned._ 'Like brother, like sister.' _She thought.

"So, Claire. What's it like working in Terrasave?" She asked, effectively turning Claire's attention away from her brother. Chris continued to look at the table broodingly. It was almost impossible that he would meet the waitress from Raccoon City who had been privy to one of the biggest mistakes of his life, who had seen him when he was weak and stupid.

Stupid enough to trust a monster.

_ November 29th, 1997_

Snow began to line the streets of Raccoon City, and the sidewalks were starting to get the glassy sheen of being iced over. By morning it would be next to impossible to travel via automobile until the city's snow plows cleared the frigid waste, and salted the roads. The sky was dark, and even the window to Paul's Bar and Grill seemed to frost over making it difficult to see outside.

Chris Redfield took a sip from the hot coffee in front of him, and idly wondered if he would still have to go to work the next day. While he was thankful for living in an apartment so he wouldn't have to deal with the snow covered yards and driveways, he still had something of a piece of shit for a car that refused to start if the wind blew especially hard. His thoughts were interrupted by the nasally voice of his waitress.

"Mmmm, it certainly is cold out there, isn't it Mr. S.T.A.R.S?" Karen questioned, patting her arm subconsciously. "I sure hope Captain S.T.A.R.S is still coming!"

"I'm sure he is." Chris half-smiled. "Wesker isn't the type of person to let a little ice get in his way."_ 'Which probably means he expects me at work tomorrow…shit.' _He found himself thinking. Karen just nodded, as if he had said something philosophical and profound. For a moment Chris wondered if she even realized he had stopped talking when she turned her bright, beady, eyes onto him and laughed for no readily apparent reason.

"If you say so! So do you wanna start with an appetizer or anything?"

"Ah…no, I'll wait." Chris said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Thanks." He added as an afterthought, and turned his attention back to the window in an attempt to end the awkward conversation. It seemed to succeed as Karen walked off to tend to another table who seemed unhappy with their cob salad. Chris half-listened to the woman's complaints, tuning out the rest of the restaurant. Karen was usually his waitress, and seemed to always be on the floor when he came to eat. He wondered if she ever took a vacation. She was always bubbly and smiling widely at him, but something about the woman rubbed him the wrong way. He couldn't really put his finger on why, and he knew it was unfair to think so when she had been nothing but kind.

She seemed like a real bitch in sheep's clothing,. Her niceties always came off almost robotically. Chris couldn't help but think that one day she would don a Michael Myers mask and go on a stabbing spree throughout the town. Of course, if she did that, he would probably be called in to put the old girl down. So occupied with the amusing little image of chasing his waitress while waving his handgun he was a little surprised when Wesker sat across from him, coming from seemingly out of nowhere.

"Well, hello, Chris." Wesker greeted. He still wore the short sleeved blue shirt he had worn to work, as well as the dark blue pants. He had probably just gotten off, as Chris recalled he had some paperwork to do with Enrico, and a meeting with R.P.D Chief Irons.

"Hey, Wesker." Chris said in greeting, taking a sip from his coffee. "It's cold as hell out there. I was freezing my ass off on my way over here."

"Don't tell me your heat is busted again?" Wesker asked, raising an eyebrow. "How often are you going to make repairs to that vehicle of yours before you go ahead and replace it?" Chris laughed and shrugged a little. Jill had asked him the same thing just the day before, and now Chris was wondering if his beat up mustang, which he had named Tina as it made him think of the beat up wife of a NASCAR driver, was getting more infamous than his marksmanship record.

"It just broke. I haven't had time to take it in yet. Forrest has a friend who deals with that kind of stuff. I'm just waiting to hear back from him." Chris replied, frowning and looking down into his coffee when Karen reappeared at the side of their table. She didn't hover for too long however, and seemed focused on taking their order and hurrying back to her other table who was now complaining about their baked potato not being prepared to their liking. Chris released a small sigh of relief.

"Now, now, Chris." Wesker smirked. "It seems to me like you have some issue with our attentive waitress. And after all the times she's served us so faithfully…" Wesker smirked patronizingly, but Chris just laughed.

"Oh, fuck you, Wesker." He grinned. He never really stopped to think about his growing relationship with Albert Wesker. He had always had a lot of trouble dealing with "the higher ups", of which Wesker most certainly fit the profile. But something about Wesker's stoic, yet often bitingly sarcastic, demeanor had earned his respect when he first joined S.T.A.R.S, and eventually his respect began to slowly change to something of an idolized affection. While the rest of the team knew he had a past filled with trouble dealing with his commanding officers, they also all knew he seemed to respect Wesker enough not to challenge his authority. How far his affections laid, however, he was sure they had no idea.

Wesker's face was unreadable thanks to the sunglasses he wore, despite the growing darkness just beyond the window. It was something of a joke around the office that Wesker had no eyes and was using the sunglasses to hide the patch of skin where his eyes should be. Richard especially liked to joke that Wesker was really "Cyclops" from the X-Men, and that if he should ever take his glasses off he would instantly fry whatever he was looking at with his optic blast.

Chris enjoyed participating in the jokes at Wesker's expense, but he always kept it to himself that he had seen Wesker without his trademark glasses, and that their captain did, in fact, possess eyes. His eyes also didn't shoot high powered lasers. Of course he kept that to himself for two differing reasons. The first being that Richard's jokes were funny, and the image of Wesker walking into a room, especially pissed, and vaporizing them with his death ray eyeballs was just too great an image to pass up. The second reason would be that he was sure that telling the others would cause some weird questioning, especially from Forrest who always seemed to be ready with a witty, invasive, joke or two. When Richard had started dating the girl from the coffee shop down the street from the prescient, Forrest had given him the toughest time. Chris wanted to stay as far from S.T.A.R.S drama as he possibly could.

Chris loved his new line of work. It was the first time he didn't feel like a black sheep among the others in his unit. His job at S.T.A.R.S had come to mean a lot to him, and he certainly wasn't going to screw it up by telling everyone Wesker's eye color. Or how he had familiarized himself with said color.

"I'm going to be going on a little work trip soon." Wesker said suddenly. "Chief Irons wants me to assist S.T.A.R.S Oregon Branch, which is having some trouble recruiting members." He took a sip from his own coffee as Karen returned to the table to set down their entrées. "I'll be gone for about three weeks."

"Three weeks, huh?" Chris asked, grabbing a bottle of ketchup and dousing his fries in the red goopy substance. "I guess S.T.A.R.S had really made an impact then." Karen stood at the table for a moment, swaying side to side as if listening to music in her mind. Then she yawned loudly to gain the attention of both men.

"Oh, sorry honey." She yawned again, raising her chubby hands to her mouth in the false pretense of being polite. "S.T.A.R.S is a really big thing around here. We don't' give discounts to just anyone!" It was at that moment that Chris realized her hands looked similar to the Hamburger Helper Glove.

Chris took a bite off one of his fries, and regarded her questioningly. Wesker took another sip of his coffee as an awkwardness settled over the table. Karen fidgeted with her black serving-apron, then yawned again.

"Well, just lemme know if you guys need anything else." She said, returning to her other table where the woman was now complaining about the price of the entrees.

"Don't they give everyone in the RPD a discount?" Chris asked, and Wesker chuckled.

"It seems your favorite waitress is fishing for a larger tip." He mused, placing his coffee cup to his lips. "She must have to do a lot of extra work, seeing as how she seems to have lost what semblance of a 'girlish figure' she may have once had."

Chris almost choked on his food in laughter, but tried to force a disapproving expression.

"You're such a dick." He grunted over his food.

"And you're such a pig." Wesker snickered.

"So you didn't tell anyone else at the prescient?" Chris asked curiously.

"No. I was just given the orders." Wesker said, somehow sounding insincere. "I left a note on Enrico's desk though. He'll be working as the active captain for Alpha Team." Chris groaned.

"Enrico hates my guts. He's got issues."

"Enrico is second in command." Wesker reminded, but he seemed amused. "Besides, I'd leave Barry in charge but he has the rest of the week off to spend with his family. It wouldn't be right to ask him to work the holidays, just so he can sit at a desk, just so you don't have to face Enrico."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Chris said dismissively, annoyance clearly written on his face. "I wouldn't want him to, either. He told me Moria and Polly are really excited about Christmas this year. It's just two weeks. I'll deal."

Wesker chuckled. "Good boy." He took a large bite from the ribs he had ordered. "You wouldn't expect ribs this good from a place like this." He mused aloud. Chris shrugged.

"The best food is always local."

"So it seems." Wesker observed Chris while he ate. After a minute, Chris stopped and slowly raised his head up to stare at Wesker. He wiped away a smudge of ketchup from the corner of his lips.

"…Yeah?"

Wesker snorted in amusement before he folded his hands together on the table. He seemed to be waiting for something and Chris began to feel the familiar tinge of annoyance creeping along the back of his neck.

"…Captain?"

"I just thought you would invite me over to your apartment." Wesker feigned a sigh. "It will be my last night here for awhile."

Chris smirked, and pushed his chair back allowing it to teeter dangerously off the ground.

"Oh? So that's what this is about?"

Wesker's brow furrowed just slightly though it went unnoticed by the cocky younger man. Chris seemed pleased about something, and Wesker didn't feel like giving him any more satisfaction than what he would receive in his bedroom. He removed his hands from the table, and folded them across his chest, now making his annoyance obvious to his subordinate.

"Man, you think I'm pretty easy, don't you?" Chris asked, but his face was one filled with indignant humor. Wesker's expression returned to it's usual stoicism. Carefully, he took a bite from the ribs he ordered. He chewed slowly, dragging out the time it took for him to respond. When he finished the bite he took another sip from his cup, finishing off his now lukewarm coffee. It tasted bitter, just the way he liked it, and he licked his lips before setting the cup down. He pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and finally spoke.

"There is a very practical difference between 'thinking' and 'knowing'."

Chris leaned forward into a normal sitting position and looked unimpressed. "You're hilarious, you know that?" He asked sarcastically. "A regular comedian. I'm not even sure what that meant."

Wesker chuckled. "Truly the most original words I've heard spoken." He picked up his napkin and dabbed at his lips. "But it is getting late, Christopher, and you have work in the morning."

_'Well, shit.'_ Chris thought. He didn't even want to think about the traffic jams caused by the icy roads. It was going to be a nightmare. Raccoon City had a pretty bad track record when it came to winter-time automobile accidents. His plate was completely void of food, and his coffee had long since vanished from the cup. Even though almost every Sunday night for the past two months had gone about the same, Chris still found a little something inside of himself wanting to rebel against his superior- even though it wouldn't give him the outcome he wanted. Namely, the one with Wesker going home with him.

"Fine." Chris conceded. "Why don't you come over for a while?"

"How gregarious of you." Wesker laughed. "But, I think I'll pass."

"You'll what?" Chris asked, not even trying to conceal his surprise. Wesker chuckled again. He had won.

"Well, if you insist." He smirked, and Chris realized he had fallen right into one of Wesker's traps. Again, the feeling of annoyance crept up his back, but he starved it off with the thought of being held down by Wesker and-

"Well then, shall we go? It'll be my treat this time." Wesker pulled out his wallet and produced his credit card with a flick of the wrist. Chris rolled his eyes.

"Sure. Go ahead. I might as well get something nice outta this deal."

"A free meal…" Wesker said coyly, "..and a free desert." Chris snickered in response.

"That's really cheesy, Wesker."

The older man didn't reply but instead held up his hand to signal Karen to come over. For a moment, Chris wondered why he was so caught up in his Sunday night dinners with the somewhat bizarre captain of S.T.A.R.S, and the aftermath that always seemed to occur whether he thought he wanted it or not. There seemed to be no reason to the urges he got when he was around the captain, but those urges came all the same. It was almost like he was back in high school, starring across the class at Liz Prescott, the hottest girl in the senior class. But this was not high school, and Wesker certainly wasn't the busty Liz. His thoughts were suddenly banished when Karen loudly took the check. Wesker slipped him a sidelong glance, and gave him the smallest, most predatory, smirk he had ever seen on the man.

Chris allowed himself to be escorted out of the warmth of the restaurant and into the freezing chill outside without complaint.

_ December 17th, 2005_

"Hey, Chris? …Chris."

Jill gently shook her friend. He looked over to her with a somewhat dazed expression. Jill looked concerned, and didn't remove her hand. He looked across the table to Claire who was leaning forward a few inches, staring at him intently.

"Hey…uh, I'm sorry. What?"

"You're really out of it." Claire answered, the corner of her mouth falling into a frown. "Are you okay? You haven't even eaten, and I know you can't pass up a good burger…"

Chris gazed down to see his meal sitting before him. He wasn't sure when it got there, or how long he'd been sitting in a nostalgic stupor, but a mix of shame and embarrassment rose from his chest.

"I'm okay. Just not that hungry." He flashed a quick smile to his sister and leaned back, sighing theatrically. "I had a huge breakfast!" He rubbed his muscular stomach in emphasis. Jill, who had been with him all day, and knew exactly what he had for breakfast, remained silent. She offered him a smile when he turned his head just slightly towards her.

"Oh…never knew you to turn down a meal, even when you were full." Claire replied. Chris laughed, even though it was apparent to them both that Claire was letting the subject drop. Chris was thankful for it. It was bad enough reliving the memories of those times where he trusted the monster who betrayed, and tried to kill, them all. He didn't want anyone else to know about how stupid he had been. He always wondered if maybe he had just paid closer attention, or hadn't gotten so wrapped up in his mindfuck of an affair with his superior, that maybe he would have seen the signs. Maybe he would have come to realize that Wesker's frequent trips to assist the other S.T.A.R.S groups was just a cover for his dealings with Umbrella.

Maybe he could have prevented the citizens of Raccoon, whom he had sworn to protect, from facing a fate worse than death.

Chris forced his thoughts away to the dark recesses in his mind. He would be pissed if he let the memories of Wesker mess up the small amount of time he had to share with his sister. The man had taken more than enough from him. He wouldn't allow the memories of the man to ruin his vacation. He made sure to flash Claire a winning smile.

"I'll just get a box to go." He said nonchalantly. Claire looked down at her own food, and seemed to have the same idea- the half eaten burger sitting on her plate mockingly. As if the very thought summoned her, Karen appeared at their side.

"Looks like we're gonna need some boxes!" She laughed merrily. "I will take care of that, and I will get Mr. S.T.A.R.S the check! These burgers are good, but nothin' like ol' Paul's used to be, am I right?"

Chris looked up at her, the same annoyance that her very face used to bring on back in Raccoon City returning to him in full force. It was an eerily familiar feeling.

"No, it's okay." He said, forcing a terse kindness into his words. "I just wasn't very hungry. A box will be fine."

"Okay, then!" Karen grinned merrily, the underlying irritation in Chris' words completely missing her. "I'll be right back~" She almost sang, scurrying off and around to the bar. Claire laughed, which caused Chris to raise his eyebrow at her.

"What?"

"Nothing…" And she snickered again. "A box will be fine." She said in a monotone.

"What's wrong with that?" He asked, but found himself smiling despite himself. Jill was smiling too.

"You did sound a little rude." Jill commented forcing Chris gave her a playful glare. Claire nodded her head in agreement and the uncomfortable feeling that had plagued Chris' mind began to melt away. Sitting in a small café with the two most important people to him was probably the best way he could imagine spending his evening. It was such a rare occasion that he knew he had to enjoy everything about it- take in every little sight, and sound, then put it into his memories so he wouldn't forget about the times he spent with the people he loved. The times he was smiling, and happy.

Wesker had taken so much from him. From all of them. Chris would be damned if he let that psychopath take their happiness as well.


End file.
